


Crossing Swords

by palmedfire



Category: Valdemar Series - Mercedes Lackey
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 19:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palmedfire/pseuds/palmedfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kerowyn is hardly the first adult warrior to be Chosen.  It's almost like there's a system for these things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossing Swords

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thewhiterose3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewhiterose3/gifts).



> With thanks to my wonderful beta readers and nitpickers - VelvetMouse & everchangingmuse!

Trainee-Captain Kerowyn had shown up at the salle trailing a small procession of people, much to Alberich's dismay. There was no need for an audience just because a new Trainee, no matter how famous, was going to be put through her paces.

:I don't suppose I could...:

Kantor cut that thought off with a dry mental snort. :No, you can't toss them out. They all have good reasons to want to watch this.:

Alberich narrowed his eyes at the little procession. :The Lord Marshal and his Herald, yes. I suppose I can understand Talia and Elcarth. But why in the world does Myste think she needs to be here?:

:Myste thinks she needs to be here because the last time some adult weapon-mad fool decided to get himself Chosen, she wasn't around to write how it was done,: came the acerbic comment from the Herald-Chronicler herself. Alberich just shook his head and sighed.

"Told, I've been, you lot get to stay," he growled, and was rewarded by a general surge of attention. "But you sit there, and are silent." He jabbed a finger at the benches along the sides of the room, and recieved general nods and shuffling in the indicated direction. Even better, the Trainee-Captain stayed where she was, giving Alberich a long, appraising look. He liked that look, liked the way she stood, alert, but quiet, waiting for his direction. She was trained, not just in the usual 'school of hard knocks' like most mercenaries, but actually trained under a good Weaponsmaster. Which, if the stories were correct, was true. He returned her appraising look and then nodded once, sharply. "Jeri!" he shouted.

"Yes, sir?" she asked, appearing almost instantaneously at his elbow. Her gaze flicked between him and the Trainee-Captain.

"Put'er though paces," he said, with a nod towards the Trainee-Captain. "Sword and shield first." There was a brief look of surprise from both women, but he ignored it. Instead, he turned and paced to where he usually stood to watch classes, a point along the salle wall that was out of the way but still gave him a view of the whole room, as well as a view of the long mirrors. He could tell from the hushed mutterings that everyone was surprised he wasn't going up against the Trainee-Captain himself, but he saw no reason to exert his tired bones against a trained fighter when Jeri was younger and just as capable. Besides, it would let him watch and evaluate. Both the Trainee-Captain and Jeri. Jeri was truly gifted with a sword, and had proven quite a capable Weaponmaster's Second, but she was aristo born, for all that she tried to forget that, and even had she not been a Herald, she would never have needed to rely on her sword to make her way in the world. Unlike himself. Unlike this Trainee-Captain.

So he had Jeri test the other woman's skill with all the salle's weapons in turn, as Dethor had tested him when he'd first arrived, until he called a halt. "Enough," he said, crossing the room to bolt the door. "Live steel next. Against me." Without further comment, he crossed to the cabinets that held the armor and began suiting up.

He was pleased to see that the Trainee-Captain didn't hesitate either, though she spent longer than he would have liked at the weapons rack.

:She's trying to find a sword close to the one she uses,: Kantor commented. :It's a geas blade, so don't be too hard on her for her attachment.:

Albrecht just gave a snort and faced the Trainee-Captain. She gave him a slight nod, and the fight was engaged without any of the 'typical' politeness of salutes. She was good, that much had been obvious just from her reputation. That she was very good had been obvious from watching her bout with Jeri. But now, as Albrecht twisted his sword up to block her blow just in time, he realized exactly how good she was. At least as good as he was. Better perhaps. Certainly younger. And with many years a mercenary Captain, free of the usual dreams of glory and honor most new Trainees came with.

He almost disarmed her with a nasty little street brawler's trick he'd picked up a few years ago in the worst parts of Haven, but she caught it, and blocked it with little sign that she was shocked he was playing 'dirty'. He didn't let his pleasure in that show on his face, but inwardly he was thrilled. Here, at last, was someone else he could set to bout Skif and keep that little scamp on his toes. And maybe more if.… No, that was a thought for after the bout. Now he needed to focus on testing the very limits of this new Trainee-Captain's skill. Because those limits seemed to be very far off, indeed.

The bout finally ended in a reverberating clang of steel on steel, Albrecht's sword spinning out of his hand and across the salle floor as he stumbled backwards. But as he stumbled, he grabbed her sword arm, thumb pressing into the pressure point on the inside of her wrist as he pulled her down with him. It was a risky move, and not one he'd ever want most of his students attempting, but it served its purpose. Her sword tumbled from her nerveless fingers, and she stumbled forward. He released her wrist before she could fall on him and rolled to the side and up, grabbing her fallen sword as he rose.

“Yield. I yield,” the Trainee-Captain said in rough, heavily accented Karsite as he leveled the point of the sword at her. He nodded once, ignoring the smattering of applause from the unwanted audience.

"Good bout," was the only thing he said, happy to see she didn't wait for him to offer him a hand up, and retrieved his sword from where it had fallen.

"If I'd had Need, you wouldn't have been able to pick her up," the woman commented, switching back to Valdemarian.

Alberich shrugged. The blade might be a geas-blade with a legend stretching back far beyond his limited interest in history, but in the end a sword was just a tool, no matter how storied. And should be just as easy to discard at will. But the Trainee-Captain didn't take offense at his silence, instead wiping down the blade she now held and returning it to the weapons rack as he did the same.

When both swords were properly stored, she thrust out a hand. "Captain Kerowyn of the Skybolts. Apparently attached to some great white beast calling herself Sayvil."

"Weaponsmaster Alberich. Chosen of Kantor," he said, accepting the handshake. The information was not new to either of them, but there was a brief moment of connection there before Alberich nodded again and turned his attention back to their audience.

"Seen what you needed to," he said. It wasn't a question, and no one quite dared to try to make it one. "Elcarth. Jeri. Trainee-Captain. A word." The Lord Marshal looked like he wanted to protest, but Talia caught his eye and shook her head slightly. Alberich didn't wait to see what they did next, instead heading for his office.

:I am coming too.: There was no more room for argument in Myste's statement than there had been in his. He sighed inwardly. That woman was insufferable.

:And you love it,: Kantor commented with his usual dry wit.

:I don’t remember asking you.: Kantor wisely didn’t answer that, and Alberich could feel the Companion’s attentions turn away as he settled in his chair behind the much abused desk in his office. Elcarth and Myste took the two other chairs, leaving Jeri and the Trainee-Captain to stand. Elcarth folded his hands in his lap, and Myste already had one of her ubiquitous notebooks and pens out and was scrawling furiously.

“A Second I do not need,” he said, nodding towards Jeri. “I have a good one already. Good enough, almost, to let me retire. _Almost_ ,” he emphasized, as he saw Jeri start to preen slightly from the unexpected compliment. "But another teacher, possibly. You will do with her as was done with me," he said to Elcarth. "One or two classes. Then here. She's a hero of Valdemar, not a Karsite deserter like I was. Should be no problem to push the change through."

Elcarth laughed at that. "They managed well enough for you I think. But yes, we can make that work."

Alberich snorted. "It worked only because no one asked. Talk to the Trainee-Captain I will now, I think." He flapped a dismissive hand at the rest of them. He could see Myste shift, preparing herself to get stubborn about this, so he fixed her with the hard, stony look that cowed trainees. Sadly, it didn't work quite as well on stubborn middle-aged Herald-Chroniclers. She just blinked at him from behind her lenses and smiled very slightly. "This is personal, not Chronicle. Something else to dig your teeth into, you must now find."

Myste was not particularly cowed, nor had he expected her to be. But she did get up and leave the room with a nod to both himself and the Trainee-Captain. She paused in the doorway and gave him a sardonic smile. "You will, of course, tell me if anything important comes of this. My version of important, not yours."

He just glared at her until she shut the door behind her. "Insufferable woman," he muttered, but there was enough affection in his tone that the Trainee-Captain picked up on it and smiled very slightly. "Take a seat," he said, ignoring the smile. "They wish to see you as a Herald only, but you are not. You are a Captain as well." The Trainee-Captain nodded, and Albriech was pleased to note the calculating look in her eyes. She'd obviously noticed how quickly everyone else at the Collegium forgot she was still Captain of a mercenary Company, a position that would require a significant portion of her time. He nodded once and continued, "They will insist on some classes. They interfere with your duties, you talk to me, and I will arrange things. Hero you may be, now, but implacable Weaponsmaster I have been for longer."

That drew a chuckle from the Trainee-Captain. "And most of them learned under you I'd bet," she said dryly.

He nodded. "It gives some influence. And if you are working with me, I say…."

"They will not ask why that work includes the Skybolts."

She was quick. He liked that. Far too often, mercs, even Captains, were good with a weapon, and little else.

:She had good teachers,: Kantor commented.

:A teacher can only teach so much. It is up to the student to apply it,: he replied. "Need a teacher, though, I do. Jeri is very talented, but highborn."

"You need someone who knows all the dirty tricks," she said without hesitation.

"Knows them, can use them, can _teach_ them. Jeri knows them but she…."

"Is highborn and they are not 'sporting', so she forgets." The Trainee-Captain nodded as she leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers. "I think I see what you're getting at."

"One class only," he said, scrawling a note on one of the papers in front of him. "For now. Figure out how to fit that and your classes with your Company. Then we will expand." He signed the note, and sprinkled it with sand to dry the ink before folding and sealing it. He stood, and handed her the note. "Back to the Collegium with you, and this. Elcarth will see it and make the necessary arrangements."

The Trainee-Captain had stood when he did, and accepted the note with a "Yes, sir," and a quick salute. "And if that bout was you 'getting older', I'd have hated to have to fight you in your prime." With that, she turned smartly, and walked out the door.

In the privacy of his office, Alberich allowed himself a small smile. Yes. She might not realize it yet, but Trainee-Captain Kerowyn would fit in at the Collegium very nicely indeed.


End file.
